Komaru knew nothing but the sound of rumbling and the broadcasts that plagued the large screen television installed in her empty house. The School Of Mutual Killing Program, of course, had been over for a while. She still had nightmares that she was right there next to her brother as the guillotine sliced again and again the metallic clang sickeningly ricketing through the dead air. Her brother was alive. Even though she hadn’t seen his face since he’d pressed the button and he’d entered into the world that was hellishly transformed. She spent the days tearing through books, old magazines and manga which now seemed like relics of ancient civilization. She sang to herself idol songs, trying to forget about the flashes of Sayaka Maizono dead in the shower. Perhaps she could salvage them, and in twenty years they’d be the centerpieces of museums. The future could still be bright. I won’t give up.
Still there was the rumbling beneath her feet that shook to her very core. She could feel it in her stomach and intestines and entire being.
Her journal became her best friend. She had a habit of marking things down. She remembered in grade school when she drew on her hand in pen, and the teacher gave her detention saying the ink would poison her blood. In her state now, she had drawn paragraphs on her thighs and on any paper she could get a hand on. Again, she thought, this will someday be important. Someday held significance. Its what kept her waking up every morning. That and the earthquakes. And Makoto.
One morning, a thursday, she woke up a louder ruckus than usual. The entirety of the small apartment complex shook and the bookshelf toppled over, papers spewing out in an wave. She jolted out of bed and ran over to the padlocked door, ear pressed against. A metallic clanging sound shook straight through it onto her cheek vibrating through her being.
“Save me,” she cried hoarsely, “Help! I’m here. Its me, Komaru Naegi.” Then a silver claw burst through and she knew it wasn’t the help she wished for. It took a moment for any instinctual thought to kick in. Adrenaline burst through her body, sending her nerves on fire. Once the bear tore through her door…
Without rationale, she tore through the next room and scooped up the journal, cradling it, and then shoved it into her old dusty school bag. She remembered buying it as a present for herself before high school. It was blue and printed with clouds and she had felt a deep excitement back then because her future was bright. Now it was marred and torn, the fabric damaged and broken. She hauled it over her back, as if she was late for school, and going against the fibers of her being went back to the ominous door. Clang clang clang. The robotic bear broke through and with all her energy she tore past it and into the unknown, not bothering to look back at her home and her prison.
Her senses on fire, she tore through the halls but soon had to begin thinking again, as heat burst in waves across her skin. The apartment complex was burning and the fact barely registered in her brain. All she knew was instinct. There was the robotic whirring of those godforsaken bears. After a blank few minutes of fighting she clamored to the elevator. In case of fire, take the stairs it read. But as soon as she peered down the staircase she heard the whirring as a monobear began to ascend. Lets just go with the elevator.
It beeped slowly the noise hardly making an impact on the overall sound level. She, at the moment, felt a bit like a shounen protagonist.
This isn’t real.
The bear’s laugh cut through and she slammed her finger down onto the button over and over. It curved around the corner, footsteps advancing.
“Come on,” she squeaked out, on the verge of tears. Her fingers dug into the palm of her hand and broke the skin. Floor 8, 9, 10. The elevator creaked open and she registered that inside there were actual alive human beings. A loud blast came from within and it singed her sides as the monokuma was caught in the impact and burst against the wall, metallic insides spewing out.
Out stepped Byakuya Togami. Oh its him, she thought, a piece of her brain turning on. He scrutinized her with cold eyes. She felt a deep seated urge to clock him in the face but her body did not seem to want to move. Nobody spoke to her older brother like this boy did. He was taller than she expected in person, and skinnier she thought with some distaste. Any deeper thoughts were beyond her at the moment.
“I’m Naegi,” she said awkwardly.
“You’re Naegi?” Togami said. The others on the elevator were behind him and seemed to be assessing her. They were all dressed in black secret agent-esque costumes. This all seemed very silly.
“Komaru Naegi. Makoto’s sister. You know him.”
“ We should run a DNA assessment,” one of the agents said.
“Go take her with you back to the foundation, I am not dealing with this,” Togami sighed.
“I’ll do it,” one of the agents offered. Another blast came from what appeared to a megaphone (was that what it was?) and another monokuma exploded.
“I’d like to go now,” she whimpered. The agent who appeared to be a woman took her by the wrist. “Alright, Naegi-san. You do resemble your brother.”
“Don’t trust her just yet.”
“I don’t need you to talk down to me,” she said. She pulled Komaru back onto the elevator and pushed the button. Komaru’s stomach sank down with the descent. She clutched her bag to her chest. The agent took out a small metallic braclet and looped it around Komaru’s wrist. It was cold and tight.
“A tracking device. We can also detonate it if necessary but I don’t intend on doing that.”
Komaru shivered. The agent pulled her bag off and inspected it, before shoving it back into her arms.
The next thing she could remember was waking up in a helicopter, a wet towel pressed against her face. She heaved her body up before a hand forced her down again.
“Do you faint at the sight of blood.”
“No? What happened?”
“You fainted at the sight of blood. Well a corpse.”
The memory flashed into her head and she saw stars burst before her eyes again and rested her head back down.
“Where are we going.”
“To the Future Foundation. The ones who are fighting against Junko Enoshima and her reign of despair.”
“She’s dead though,” Komaru exclaimed, her voice louder than intended, “Can this all end?”
Silence was the only response.
“She is dead! I saw it. It was broadcasted all over the world. Along with Onii-chan’s classmates.” She didn’t realize that tears begun streaming down her eyes. She wasn’t much one for crying in public, in fact she hated it. Helpless, she thought, I am helpless.
“I don’t believe I’m supposed to say this, but Junko Enoshima is not exactly dead.”
“After the guillotine chopped her into pieces?” Komaru shrieked, voice far too high.
“The Game of Mutual Killings was not real. It was a simulation. The experiences were real. The consciousness of all the kids were for all intents and purposes alive within the game. Their bodies were in a comatose state locked in the biology department of the real Hope’s Peak academy. When Naegi pressed the escape button, the six ‘survivors’ woke up there and the doors of the real Hope’s Peak opened allowing them to escape. The other students were not killed, but they are still comatose. A rescue team retrieved their bodies. All except Enoshima.”
It took a few moments for the information to make any sense. She repeated some of what the agent said back in her head before it sank it.
“Theyre alive? All of them?”
“Yes. But not all conscious. We don’t know what damage it might’ve caused their brains. The six who are awake have shown some issues from their experience. Intense anxiety, memory problems, and some delusions.”
“Can I see him? My brother, “she said desperately her voice cracking.
“We are taking you to him. He will be very happy. We are trying to recover as many as possible. A few family members, old friends.”
“But Junko Enoshima is still alive.”
“Can I pass out again,”
And Komaru fell back into the sweetness of darkness.